


Assumptions and Assuming

by saya4haji



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Assumptions, F/F, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Jealous Cat Grant, Misunderstandings, Possibly Unrequited Love, Pre-Relationship, Protective Cat Grant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:27:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26147905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saya4haji/pseuds/saya4haji
Summary: Cat Grant assumes. She assumes Alex is Kara's girlfriend. She sees bruises and assumes again.
Relationships: Alex Danvers & Kara Danvers, Kara Danvers/Cat Grant
Comments: 37
Kudos: 467





	Assumptions and Assuming

**Author's Note:**

> To my other half. Next time I ask you what you want for our anniversary you might answer me more seriously rather than ranting "I want to find that fanfic I started where Cat misinterprets Alex and Kara's relationship and then jumps to the wrong conclusion about her being a domestic abuser." ;-) Love you honey. I couldn't find the story you wanted so I wrote one of my own. I hope you enjoy it. You bring me joy.
> 
> To everyone else, please enjoy this story. If you can think of the name of the story my lovely gf actually wanted to find then please let us know in the comments. 
> 
> This story is a one-shot gift but people are free to adopt it and continue it, or to re-post to tumblr etc. as a prompt. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Cat surreptitiously glances over her laptop at her new, ‘nothing special,’ assistant. The confounding enigma that is her latest assistant is becoming an increasing distraction as Cat’s well-honed journalistic instincts gnaw at her to discover what makes this one so different. The riddle of the cardigan wearing, ray of sunshine is a welcome distraction from proof-reading the latest disastrous Tribune columns and the messy layouts of the Spring Fashion issue.

The blonde millennial looks like the abominable love child of a children’s television presenter and a sexy librarian who has been thrown up on by the bargain bin from Nordstrom. And yet, she has managed to last six weeks with an unusually low number of reprimands.

Oh, who is Cat kidding?

The golden Labrador in human form has performed impeccably. Kara Danvers has taken all of Cat’s poisonous barbs in stride, has hurdled over her unreasonable requests and pre-emptively aided Cat in half a dozen ways already. Initiative is so hard to find from a generation raised on being spoon fed everything from helicopter parents. It is a fact, that for the last four weeks Cat has actually been able to go home at a reasonable hour because Kara has managed her schedule properly and has been acting as the gatekeeper who turns away issues that other departments should be handling without Cat’s input. Being home at a reasonable hour to spend time with Carter, and the relief from the constant unnecessary stress has made life on the 100th floor and throughout CatCo much more pleasant. The fact Kara has made it past week four was better than the last eight assistants Cat had hired and fired. The fact she has made it past the six-week probation period without a verbal, or written warning has had Pam in HR smiling like all her Christmases have come at once. Pam had been waiting outside Cat’s elevator this morning with the paperwork for her to sign to transfer Kara over to a permanent contract. Cat had momentarily considered pretending that she didn’t want to keep Kara on, but the hope and look of relief on Pam’s face had been too much for her.

It was amidst this ruminating that Cat’s attention was drawn to her assistant’s blonde head which has just popped up from her laptop with the eagerness of a hound scenting a fox. A brilliant smile spreads across her face and Kara practically wiggles in her seat. Cat’s eyes narrow and her gaze follows Kara’s line of sight to an athletic woman with short, red streaked hair, wearing a leather jacket, heavy boots and carrying a takeout bag.

The brunette walks with confidence and her eyes flicker in constant awareness as though assessing her surroundings. Ex-military or law enforcement would be Cat’s experienced, journalistic guess.

The woman’s pale skin flushes happily when her eyes lock with Kara and a matching grin spread across Kara’s face. Kara hops to her feet to meet the shorter brunette in a bone crushing hug.

The brunette pulls back but even as the two women disengage from their hug, their hands trail reluctantly away from each other and the fingers of their left hands stay loosely connected.

Cat can feel her eyebrows rising. This is certainly an interesting development. Kara Danvers is perhaps even more interesting than Cat had given her credit for.

The two women converse quietly. The brunet raises the takeout bag and heaves her thumb in the direction of the elevators. Kara cringes a little and throws a half desperate, half scared look over her shoulder towards Cat’s office.

Kara glances back at the brunet and in uncharacteristic fashion, her shoulders square from their usual curved hunch. Kara nods resolutely and reaches back to her desk where the intercom to Cat’s office rests.

Cat quickly looks down at her laptop and doesn’t react as Kara’s voice sounds through the speaker,

 _*Beep* “_ Ms Grant, if there is nothing you require at the moment, I am going to take my lunch break?”

Kara sounds hopeful but hesitant. The statement sounds more like a question.

Cat counts to ten in her head before looking up through her fishbowl office walls. Kara stands at attention, her weight shifting from side to side as she waits for an answer.

Cat’s eyes dance back to the brunet and lock with dark intense eyes that do not blink, do not flinch, and do not waver from the intense glare of the Queen of all media.

Cat is impressed. She momentarily contemplates denying Kara just to see what will happen but something in her companion’s dark eyes threaten ruin, or at least a public display that may cost her Kara as her assistant if she refuses. This is the first time in six weeks that Kara has ever asked to take her lunch break instead of taking it when Cat is in a meeting or eating at her desk. This brunet must be special to inspire such bravery from the usually meek Kara.

Cat’s lips twist, she supposes Kara deserves some consideration for her good work. Some small reward.

With languid elegance and without any rush, Cat presses her intercom and with affected boredom replies, “1 hour Keira.”

Kara startles and jumps, she claps her hands like a small child and grabs the brunet’s free arm. The brunet remains calm as she walks calmly towards the elevator, an indulgent smile on her face as she keeps pace with a skipping Kara.

Curiouser and curiouser. The enigma of Kara Danvers grows.

Cat pulls up the HR files for Kara Danvers and is unsurprised to see a “Dr. Alex D.” listed as her emergency contact. There is a private number for the woman and what looks like a government extension phone number for her work line. The relationship to employee box and address is blank and Cat’s clenches her teeth at the sloppy form filling. She will have to impress on HR to ensure all records are kept up to date and fully completed.

Cat flips back through the file and brings up the digital CV and application of Kara’s initial interview. A few rudimentary check and she is unsurprised to notice that Alex’s emergency contact details on this form have Alex’s home address listed, and it is the same address that Kara supplied as her home residence. Considering Kara hadn’t been in the City long at the time of submitting this application, it seems safe to assume the two women are living together, but discretely. Cat wonders why but dismisses it. The workplace is a hard-enough place to survive for most employees, and even in Liberal National City there are bigots. Or perhaps one of the women is not out to their families or fellow work colleagues? If Alex does work for the government, her discretion would not be totally unexpected either. Cat mentally rolls her eyes at the current administration and their structural homophobia. 

Over the coming months the brunet stranger, who Cat overhears Kara calling Alex as confirmation, becomes a regular visitor. She drops food off for Kara if she is working late, or sometimes appears to escort her home. Each time, Kara smiles like her own personal Sun has come to visit. Their easy intimacy, smiles, cheek kisses and Kara’s unfortunate habit of gushing about ‘my Alex’ at the drop of a hat if Cat allows any segues for Kara to discuss her private life, all culminate in Cat’s assumption that Alex is Kara’s girlfriend being all but confirmed in her mind.

Cat feels a small twinge of something like jealousy burn in her gut but she is Cat Grant, she does not do anything so pedestrian as jealousy. Especially not over her infantile assistant.

* * *

Supergirl’s arrival in National City has caused a maelstrom and a downpour of work. The Tribune’s sales have skyrocketed, and Cat has been busier than ever.

Cat has never before been so glad to have Kara. A competent assistant is worth her weight in gold. Not that Cat would ever tell her that, or even call her by her real name.

As the months have passed, Kara has proven herself to be the single best assistant Cat has ever had. Cat has felt herself being inextricably drawn to the extraordinary blonde, like a moth to a flame. Kara is one of the few stars in the darkness that Cat has swum through all her life.

Forging a mentor/apprentice dynamic with her assistant has helped to stabilise their relationship and quell Cat’s more…bizarre feelings.

Cat marches out of her private elevator, thoroughly vexed following a disastrous features meeting. Her bubbling annoyance rises when Kara is not waiting for her at the door to her elevator, poised with two painkillers and an update on the sales numbers that she requested.

Cat strides across the floor and sees her assistants blonde head bent low, her back to Cat as she whispers frantically into her phone. Frustration and hurt practically radiates from Kara’s hunched form.

Cat feels her anger faulter and an unfamiliar sense of concern grow as she quiets her steps so she can prowl closer to her distracted assistant.

Cat pulls her phone and blindly scrolls through it so any of the peons who notice her hesitating beside Kara’s desk will think she is dealing with something rather than eavesdropping.

Kara’s voice is strained and desperate as she pleads, “…no Alex. No, I won’t do it. Alex, I said no. Look, I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.”

The pain in Kara’s voice pulls at Cat. She has never heard Kara sound so sad and defeated. What could this Alex be asking that Kara is so adamantly refusing?

What’s more, why is Kara having to refuse more than once? No means no.

An unpleasant dread builds in Cats chest and Kara’s desperate tone does little to reassure her.

Kara is listening intently as a low hum sounds through the phone. The buzzing tone is indistinct, but Alex’s angry temperament and wheedling comes through clearly to Cat. Cat has heard that tone before from ex-husbands and men who think they can mansplain to her.

Kara seems to collapse in on herself and when she replies there is a new desperation and quavering in her voice,

“I’m sorry Alex. I know it is important. I didn’t mean to make things hard for you.”

Kara pauses to listen to another rapid-fire response from Alex that seems even more strident. Cat’s eyes narrow and she feels her lips twitch in a grimace at the defeated tone, the supplicant apologies. Cat can only hear one side of this conversation, but her mind is painting a distinctly displeasing picture. A picture of emotional manipulation. That picture is not dissuaded by the next words from Kara’s mouth,

“You’re right Alex. I was being stupid, you know I don’t understand these things. You have always had to explain them to me. I’ll try to do better next time. I’m sorry I caused you so much trouble, but I promise I will make it up to you tonight...”

A dark shiver races down Cat’s spine at Kara’s words and she feels a cold fist grip her stomach. Kara is one of the most intelligent people Cat has ever met. She could do the jobs of three quarters of Cat’s staff with her eyes closed. The idea of this Alex undermining Kara’s intelligence and confidence to the extent she would offer some form of _carnal_ recompense for her perceived failures makes bile rise in her throat.

Cat coughs loudly to cut Kara off.

“Miss Grant!” Kara cries in surprise.

Guilt flashes across Kara’s face and her eyes have a distinctly glassy look as though she has been fighting tears.

Cat grinds her teeth at the thought of Kara crying.

Kara whispers quickly into her phone before hanging up, “Alex I have to go, Miss Grant is back from her meeting. We’ll talk more tonight.”

Cat cocks her eyebrow and strides towards her office, “My office Keira!”

Kara jumps, grabs her tablet and races behind Cat into the office.

Cat’s mind rushes and in an impulsive move she settles on her couch and pats the seat for Kara to sit beside her. It is a distinctly intimate gesture for Cat.

Only Carter and herself have sat on this sofa.

Kara looks as though she is afraid the couch will bite her, but she slinks forward and settles hesitantly.

“What is my afternoon looking like Keira?” Cat asks routinely.

Kara rhymes off a list of appointments and calls, as well as two messages that were received while she was in her meeting.

“…and your therapist called to confirm your appointment for next week before your mothers visit.”

Cat nods, “Very good Keira.”

Kara sits pensively as she waits for further instructions. Cat hesitates a moment on the precipice of what she is about to do, but before she can second guess herself into inaction her mouth moves without her conscious permission. The words flow, genuine and oddly gentle from her usually critical lips.

“I mean that. You do good work. You are intelligent and shaping up to be a very competent asset for Catco. You have potential and intelligence, don’t let anyone tell you any differently Kara.”

Kara’s mouth gapes open and closed like a fish. It has been almost a year and Cat has never offered her a compliment or called her by her real name.

Kara is stunned into silence and Cat quickly tries to drag her armour back on, to reassert their boundaries,

“Did you hear me Kara, have my words penetrated or have my words been lost in transit as they try to traverse the layers of polyester blend you call clothes?

Kara’s jaw snaps shut before she stammers, “Y-Yes Miss Grant, I-I heard, I mean- I ,-You…”

Cat rolls her eyes dramatically and rises to her feet as she begins heading back to her desk. Cat keeps her back to Kara and surveys the monitors on the wall to hide the slight blush she can feel suffusing her cheeks. The embarrassment races through her. How stupid she feels: Reassuring her assistant, offering unabashed praise…giving her a glimpse of what Cat really feels- No! That way lies dragons.

“Good. Do not let it go to your head. Now get back to work, I want those sales number on my desk in fifteen minutes or ese I will fire you.”

Kara squeaks and Cat can hear her stumbling in a rush back to her desk.

Cat sighs and rubs her forehead. Stupid.

The memory of Kara’s defeated tone and begging apologies rings in her head like an echoing bell.

Cat is resolute. She will have to keep a closer eye on this Alex situation.

* * *

They are working late the following week. A scandal concerning one of Europe’s most high-profile fashion designers means that two weeks of work featuring the disgraced cads work has to be replaced and edited out of the trends of the season issue.

Cat swirls her Scotch as she pulls another little known designers work that has similar lines to the dress she had to pull on page eight.

The elevator pings on the far side of the floor and the leather clad form of Alex strides with purpose and a tight jaw towards Kara’s desk.

Cat feels herself tense and she ducks her head closer to the layouts she has been pouring over. Her hair falls forward and creates a curtain she can peak through without suspicion.

Kara rises with an apologetic smile which soon drops from her face as Alex begins harshly whispering at her.

It quickly becomes apparent that the two are arguing, and by the restrained violence of Alex’s hand gestures which point to Kara, the elevator and then back at Cat, it is clear exactly what they are arguing over.

Cat feels an odd sense of Deja vu. Is this what her employees saw when her ex-husbands would come to berate her for loving work more than them and doing too much overtime?

Kara stands her ground at first, but as Alex whisper shouts, Kara’s form droops and her eyes drop to the floor like a kicked puppy.

Alex makes wild angry gestures while Kara’s hands flutter like frightened birds trying to calm a tigress.

Alex’s right-hand snaps forward around Kara’s bicep and by the creasing of the horrible pastel cardigan it is clear she is exerting a lot of force.

Cat feels herself stiffen and begin to rise as Kara’s own body goes rigid. Cat’s left hand creeps towards her phone and she is moments from calling security.

At the last second, Kara brushes Alex’s hand and by some miracle she releases her iron grip.

Alex spits some final comment that makes Kara flinch and she spins on her heal. Kara remains still as a statue, her face a mask of pain. She looks torn, as though she is actively fighting herself not to chase Alex down.

The elevator doors close and Alex does not turn around.

Kara slumps before trudging back to her desk.

Cat rises smoothly and with conscious effort walks slowly to check on Kara. She must not show her panic or her concern.

With affected nonchalance she leans against her glass door, “If you had to be somewhere Kara, you could have said. I can spare you for a few hours.”

Kara, if possible, shrinks even more. Her shoulders are practically at her ears she is so hunched over on herself.

Without looking up, Kara sniffles and says, “It’s fine. It’s just game night. Alex was just annoyed I won’t be there to host it and I have inconvenienced everyone by making it an odd number of players. I’ve had to do a lot of late nights this week and she worries is all. She misses me. I’ll bring extra snacks next week as an apology”

Cat nods, even as her mind dissects this latest revelation of what Alex doesn’t like and how she thinks Kara is displeasing her. Then again, Cat has had her fair share of issues like these. Work/life balance is hard, and she should not read too much into it. She shouldn’t assume.

“If you’re sure. Place an order for some Thai, get yourself a double portion. It is going to be a long night.”

Kara looks up and smiles. It’s not a huge smile but it eases something inside Cat.

* * *

Cat is half heatedly picking at her green curry as she scans through the newest version of the layouts. It has been two hours since Alex had stormed off and Cat is sitting comfortably on her sofa opposite Kara as they eat and make the finishing touches to the herculean task.

Kara has ploughed through spicy shrimp soup, and a double helping of pork and noodles. She is mournfully scraping the last noodles from her container with such a sad expression that Cat sighs and pushes her mostly untouched curry towards Kara.

“Here, you may as well eat this. I never really have an appetite this late and if you keep scraping the bottom of that box you will tear a whole and leak pork grease on my $15000 couch.”

Kara’s head perks up and she eyes the curry hungrily. A light blush suffuses her cheeks, “Uh, thank you Miss Grant, but I shouldn’t. It’s rude to take other people’s food. Especially when I always eat like a pig,”

There is something off in the self-deprecating refusal. Cat can almost see the quote marks in Kara’s response as though she is repeating someone else’s words.

Before Cat can think better of it, she is sneering, “Let me guess, Alex’s words?”

Kara’s eyes blow huge and that is all the confirmation that Cat needs, she swats a hand to prevent Kara’s insipid denials and defences of that woman.

“Never mind. Just eat the damn curry. It will only go to waste anyway. If I could eat like you and maintain the physique of an Olympian beneath all that wool blend, I would.”

Cat punctuates her message by pushing the curry further towards Kara so she has to catch it just before it slides off the table.

Kara hesitates before lifting the food up and with a faint blush whispers, “Thank you.”

Cat waves away the thanks and pretends to refocus on her work. In reality she is thinking about how she will have to keep a closer eye on Kara’s food intake. She also needs to arrange a way to accidently see what Alex is bringing Kara to eat on those days she takes her for lunch. If it is anything less than what Kara needs then Cat will have to step in, the last thing she needs is her assistant developing a complex about food.

Good assistants are hard to find, that is the only reason Cat is so concerned. At least, that is what she tells herself.

* * *

It is the following evening when the magazine is finally finished, and Cat offers to let Kara ride down in her private elevator. Kara bounces like a puppy given a treat, which is not an altogether incorrect metaphor. Kara has worked like a machine this week to help Cat and some small sign of thanks and appreciation is the least Cat can do.

They are passing the 75th floor and Cat is idly telling Kara about her plans with Carter this weekend when Kara’s phone rings. The Star Wars theme tune sounds obnoxiously, and Cat raises a brow as Kara fumbles in her bag and blushes scarlet.

Cat takes the moment to realise how odd the situation is.

She is riding her private elevator with an employee.

She is discussing her precious Carter with an employee.

She isn’t making snide remarks about the horrible Star Wars ringtone she only knows because Carter loves it too.

As Kara pulls her phone out Cat sees Winn’s name across the screen and her brows scrunch as she tries to fathom why the IT hobbit is calling Kara at 9pm on a Friday.

“Hello,” Kara answers briskly. The light smile and bouncy energy that had suffused Kara a moment ago evaporates and her whole-body slumps. She groans softly and massages her forehead as though a tension headache is building.

“Not again! I take it you’re all at Al’s? Right, how drunk is she this time?”

Cat’s brows shoot almost to her hairline at this resigned inquiry.

Kara shakes her head at something Winn says, “No, it’s fine. I know she is hard to handle when she has been drinking. How long has she been asking for me?” Winn offers some reply and Kara sags slightly in relief, “Ok, good, so sappy drunk and not angry drunk.”

Cat’s eye’s narrow and her face ices over at the implications of this call. A rather nasty picture is unfolding. It seems Alex is taking advantage of Kara’s good heart in more ways than she had realised.

Kara nods along as Winn speaks, “Yes, it’s fine. I will be there in fifteen minutes. Alright bye.”

Cat can’t contain her aggressive curiosity as she asks in a frigid voice, “Is everything alright Kara?”

Kara grimaces and shrugs. “A few friends went out for drinks this evening. It seems Alex just had a bit too much. I’m going to walk over to the bar and persuade her to come home, the others are a little afraid of her. She’s an FBI agent you see.”

Cat nods, “Yes, I see.”

And Cat does. These latest details slots into place. Alex may have a drink problem and she can become angry, so much so Kara’s friends throw Kara at her like a sacrificial lamb.

Cowards.

The elevator doors open and before Cat can offer Kara a lift with her driver, she is dashing off with a hastily called, “See you Monday Miss Grant,” thrown over her shoulder.

* * *

Cat hesitates as she flips the invitation in her hand. With a resolute nod she strides out of her office and deposits the heavy cardstock onto Kara’s keyboard.

The blond assistant hesitates and eyes the invite in confusion.

Cat scowls, “An invite for you and your plus one to the gala. I will need you for at least some of the night while I make the rounds but I am sure Alex will appreciate the opportunity to accompany you, drink from the free bar and take you for a twirl on the dance floor.”

Kara blushes slightly and her eyebrows draw down in mild confusion, “Uh, um, Alex doesn’t really like stuff like this. I don’t think it is really her scene.”

Cat’s eyes narrow and she scoffs, “The Catco gala is the social highlight of the year in National City. Surely Alex will accompany you. You can’t wander around like a lost lamb with no-one to dance with. I insist you bring her!”

Kara gulps visibly and Cat feels mildly guilty for forcing the issue but she really needs to examine Alex interacting with Kara outside of the brief meetings at a distance she has seen.

Kara bites her lip nervously, “I’ll see what I can do.”

Cat smiles like the predator she is, “Excellent.”

* * *

Cat is unimpressed. Kara had been her usual wonderful self, aiding Cat in every way throughout the night. This is despite the obvious cloud that hangs over her.

Kara had arrived in a beautiful blue dress that made her look like a Disney princess come to life. At her side, Alex had stood every inch the dashing escort in a tailored tux. Her sharp cheekbones, freshly done highlights and lean figure cut an impressive figure. That was where the fairy-tale ended though.

From the moment Alex arrived it had been blatantly obvious from her body language, mood and monosyllabic interactions that she wanted to be anywhere but here.

Kara would disappear at random moments to check on Alex, a feat made much easier by the fact the woman had taken up residence in a dim corner of the Gala hall, with a large tumbler of scotch.

While Cat could compliment her drinks choice, she also wanted to flay her alive for how much she was hurting Kara.

Kara has been on edge all night and Alex’s inability to make even a token effort for Kara to enjoy this night, makes her blood boil. On several occasions Cat has caught Kara looking mournfully at Alex or looking with jealous longing at the couples twirling on the dance floor.

Cat’s mingling for the evening is at its end and she is already forming a plan in her head to dismiss Kara to enjoy the rest of the Gala, and await her opportunity to corner Alex to give her the dressing down she deserves. Kara will need a bathroom break at some point after all and that is when Cat will strike. She has things to say to Alex. In fact, she has a speech prepared. A poisonous, threatening masterpiece.

“That is all for tonight Kara. You may find Alex and enjoy the rest of the evening. The tedious work obligations of the evening are complete,” Cat decrees.

Kara tries to smile but before she can answer, Alex, having approached unseen through the crowd, is grasping her arm and saying, “That’s good timing. I just got a call Kara, something has come up. We have to go.”

Cat struggles to rein in her temper as it flares. Alex couldn’t even wait a half hour before going? She couldn’t have one dance with Kara? What the hell sort of blind, unworthy idiot is this woman?

Cat glides forward and rests her hand on Alex’s where it is connected to Kara, “Now, now, I am sure whatever it is can wait at least long enough for you both to have a dance and enjoy some food?”

Cat phrases it as a question but her tone leaves no doubt of the command. Alex stiffens and shakes off Cat’s hand as she tugs on Kara’s bicep.

Kara looks torn. She turns large, crystal eyes on Alex and pouts in a way that would make Cat hand over her entire company,

Alex merely scowl angrily at Kara and through gritted teeth she bites out, “It’s an emergency. It is _super_ important. We have to go _now_!”

Cat is sucking in a breath to tear Alex apart and viciously dissect her behaviour, her made up excuse and her absolute lack of manners, when Kara seems to come to life in the worst way.

Kara’s eyes become panicked and her breathing speeds up, “Oh!” she whispers as though Alex has said some terrible magic words that have revealed a reason why Kara must capitulate instantly.

“Yes, right. I’m sorry Miss Grant. It was a lovely night, but we must be going. Good night,” Kara rambles desperately.

Then, when Alex tugs her again, Kara goes willingly and in the blink of an eye she is being towed at speed across the dance floor and out a fire exit.

Cat is flabbergasted. What the hell kind of hold does Alex have on Kara?

* * *

Cat is in the office early the following Monday morning.

Supergirl had spend most of the weekend being bounced around the city by a metahuman who had been involved in some form of illegal government geothermic experiments. The result of which had turned the poor man into a fourteen-foot amalgamation of glowing lava and black glittering rock.

What intelligence the man had possessed was seemingly lost and he lived only to destroy.

Supergirl had used her freeze breath on the behemoth which had solidified it into a massive black rock in humanoid shape. It had looked like the fight was over before it even began, but then the unthinkable happened. The black golem (Catco would later call it Golem in their coverage) glowed at its joints and began moving again. Supergirl’s freeze breath had seemingly solidified its form and made it even more dangerous.

What ensued was twelve hours of knock down, drag out fighting through abandoned docks and out to the desert. The city would be pleased at least; their demolition cost for the docks warehouse renewal project would now be dramatically reduced.

Supergirl and the Golem crashed through buildings and earth. The Golem spewed magma, threw boulders and by drawing new magma from the earth seemed to be able to heal any wound that Supergirl inflicted.

The fight had finally ended in the desert when Supergirl used her heat vision in a blinding blast that tore a scream from her throat. The Golem’s magma superheated, and flash boiled so fast that his new rocky exterior could not contain him and he exploded in a flash of blinding heat the appeared much like a red mushroom cloud from a nuclear bomb. Five miles of desert was glassed.

Supergirl had not been seen since, although the government was reassuring the world that she was fine.

Employees trickled onto the floor but by 8am there was still no sign of Kara Danvers. Cat really needed her assistant this morning.

At 8:15am Kara finally appears through the elevator.

“Keira!” Cat yells instantly upon seeing her.

Kara pales and hurries forward, dropping her bag at her desk and fumbling for her tablet.

As Kara bumbles into the room and tries to ramble through some half-witted excuse about oversleeping due to a faulty alarm, Cat surveys her assistant.

Kara’s movements seem stiff and her usually bouncy gait is oddly subdued and lacklustre. Her golden skin seems washed out and dark circles from exhaustion have begun to appear beneath her blue orbs.

Altogether, Kara looks pathetic.

Drawing back from her mental critique and pushing down the flare of protective concern that washes through her, Cat refocuses on Kara’s rambling:

“…and I promise Miss Grant it will never happen again because I will order a new alarm, a better alarm…”

Cat sighs and raises her hand in the universal signal to stop.

Kara’s mouth snaps shut with an audible click and so fast that Cat momentarily worries the girl will bite her tongue.

Pulling her ‘Boss Bitch’ persona on like a well-worn cloak, Cat sneers as she harshly ends any future thoughts of Kara continuing this rambling nonsense.

“Enough Keira. I do not have time, nor an iota of care for a rendition of your millennial drama and a litany of cliched excuses. If you fail to prepare then you have prepared to fail. Such failure in this instance costs me time and efficiency on one of the busiest news mornings of the year following Supergirl’s fight. Consider this a verbal warning which will be mirrored in your HR file. Now, take this draft of my statement down to Snapper Car and tell him I expect the layouts and a full update on what the reporter pool has on the governments illicit operations that created the Golem within the hour. If I don’t like what I hear, heads will roll.”

If possible, Kara pales further and her eyes take on a tell tale sheen.

“Yes Ms Grant,” Kara replies in panic.

What happens next will remain imprinted in Cat Grant’s mind for the rest of her life. The scene plays out in slow motion and like a cliché moment from an 80s drama.

Kara takes an aborted step towards Cat’s desk to take the draft file and as she bends forward, she freezes as though she has been struck by 10,000 volts of electricity. All colour drains from Kara and she sucks in a pained gasp. Her left arm, that is free of the tablet she carries like a safety blanket, wraps protectively around her ribs.

Cat freezes in sympathetic pain and shock for a single eternal moment before she is swivelling in her chair and racing around to Kara’s side to support the woman who looks on the verge of collapse.

“Kara?” Cat asks in concern. The edge of panic in her voice would be unnoticeable to anyone but herself.

Rather than replying immediately to the rare use of her real name, Kara closes her eyes and takes a shallow, audible breath as though she is trying to breath through terrible pain. On her exhale she slumps against Cat’s supporting arm which hastily wraps around Kara’s back as though afraid to hurt the poor girl further.

“Kara, are you alright?” Cat asks again, this time panic more audible in her voice.

A list of doctors who owe her favours run through Cat’s head.

No response seems forthcoming to Cat’s inquiries and just as Cat is about to rise into a terrible panic of demanding answers and calling ambulances Winn, the IT hobbit, appears on Kara’s right.

Cat blinks at him having the audacity to enter her office uninvited, but when she looks up, she see that the entire floor seems frozen outside her office and are watching her support Kara who is deathly pale and hunched over in obvious pain.

“Are your ribs still hurting Kara? Alex told you to stay at home,” Winn says.

Kara nods shallowly and her eyes open as she tries to take a deeper breath, but winces visibly.

Cat pins Winn with a piercing glare that makes him tremble, “Explain,” she demands.

Winn swallows audibly, “Uh, well you see, Kara had a little accident at the weekend and uh…she bruised her ribs?”

This pathetic attempt at an explanation only makes Cat angrier, but seeing Kara finally uncurling from her pained hunch and her breathing easing lets Cat take back control of the situation.

“Can you make it to the couch Kara? Then you can clarify Witts nonsense explanation,” Cat says in a soft and soothing voice. The voice she reserves exclusively for Carter.

Winn quivers but hovers at Kara’s side protectively.

Kara gulps, “It’s fine now, I just forgot and moved too quickly is all. A moment on the couch to catch my breath and I will be fine. I am so sorry Miss Grant.”

Cat only now realises that her left hand is rubbing soothing patterns high on Kara’s back, while the thumb of her right hand that is gripping Kara’s left forearm is brushing her smooth skin comfortingly.

Cat represses a blush and together they make their way towards the couch. Kara sinks slowly and with cautious care into the soft cushions, releasing a breath of relief when she is seated.

Cat’s eyes are raking up and down her assistant in concern, trying to find any detail that will illuminate what has hurt Kara. Alas, the pastel pink summer dress that Kara wears is cinched tight and covers her from neck to knee.

Cat meets Kara’s shimmering blue eyes which she now sees are darkened with the shadow of pain, “What happened Kara?”

Kara blushes and fidgets. Her eyes drop to her lap where her fingers play nervously, picking at her nails.

“Uh, well it is like Winn said. I had an accident. I was being my usual clumsy self and tripped. I fell down the stairs in my building on Saturday evening. The doctors said it’s just deep tissue bruising, and I should be fine in a few days. I just have to be careful how quickly I move, or bend while my ribs are wrapped.”

Cat has been an investigative journalist for thirty years and she smells a lie like a stinking fish on a summer’s day. Her eyes bounce between Winn and Kara who has failed to meet her gaze.

Witt, the pathetic gremlin nods along sympathetically as though this is all completely normal and old news. His nerves seem to get the best of him, “Yeah, typical Kara. Always tripping or bumping into things.”

He laughs nervously but cuts off as Cat’s eyes narrow.

“Quite.” Cat drawls. “Although I have seen you clumsily drop and break things Kara, I have never known you to be so ‘clumsy’ as to fall. Does your building not have an elevator?”

Kara freezes at Cats dry tone as she interrogates their lie with practiced nonchalance.

Kara’s head rises and her eyes seem to plead with Cat to leave this alone even as she tries to explain.

“Oh, uh, well, yes. There is an elevator, but I was taking the stairs for the exercise. Have to get those 10,000 steps!”

Cat must obviously still look dubious because Kara’s false cheer falters.

Cat hums, “Yes, because the tens of thousands of steps I have you taking all over this city all week aren’t enough?”

Kara blushes, but before she can offer another pathetic excuse, a new thought occurs to Cat, “This is the real reason you were late?”

Kara blushes more deeply and nods in despair at being caught, “I uh, underestimated how long it would take me to get ready and get to work this morning. Alex helped me dress and she drove me here, but I’m just stiff and…slow. I’m sorry Ms. Grant, I promise I will do better, and my work won’t be affected…”

Cat can feel her own tears wanting to form at the girls obvious earnestness and despair at having disappointed her, even while she is in pain.

Cat cuts Kara off with a sharp glare, “Enough. What exactly did your doctor say?”

Kara ducks her head and mumbles, “Uh, to rest for 48 to 72 hours, take regular pain relief and not to strain my ribs.”

Cat can feel her eyebrows lower in growing anger, “And yet you are here.”

Seeing Winn beginning to look at Cat in growing suspicion she tacks on “Trying to work at half capability instead of resting so you will actually be of some use to me the rest of the week.”

Winn’s face hardens in anger but his growing suspicion at Cat’s concern is waylaid. Better to play the bitch than give any hint of her real concern.

Before Kara can say anything, Cat pins Winn with a glare, “Take Kara’s tablet, collect her things from her desk and escort her to the front of the building. I will call Terrence my driver and he will see her back home.”

Winn sits gaping for a moment, “Chop chop!” she bites.

Winn jumps to obey, snatching Kara’s tablet and racing out of the office.

Cat gazes at Kara who is rising to protest, “There is no need Miss Grant, I can still work…”

“You will do no such thing. You will go home. Rest, and return on Wednesday. I can hardly have you wandering around here in pain. I may be a jaded old woman, but I am not a sadist Kara! Besides, HR would have a field day if they heard I had made you work while injured. We both know half this floor will be whispering in Pam’s ear about the dragon lady being mean to you if I don’t send you home. Be gone and get better.”

The smile Kara offers Cat is small, hesitant, and shy. Yet it is easily one of the most precious gifts Cat will ever receive. Only Carter has ever looked at her with such quiet affection and, dare she say it, hero worship. For a moment Cat could delude herself that there might be something more to that smile, but she stomps the traitorous thought out before delusions of love can rise.

Kara rises slowly from the couch and Cat yearns to aid her, but she has shown enough weakness this day.

Kara’s smile becomes softer as she whispers with a faint blush, “You are neither mean, nor old Miss Grant. Thank you for your concern and your kindness. I will see you Wednesday, I promise. I’m sorry for causing you trouble when you’re so busy.”

Cat scoffs in lieu of any further response and Kara turns to walk gingerly towards Winn who is loaded down with Kara’s bag and tablet.

“Kara,” Cat calls just before she exits the door. “In light of extenuating circumstances, I rescind your verbal warning.”

Kara blushes and utters a surprised thanks, but Cat has already fled to her desk, lest she watch Kara stiffly walk to the elevator like some lovesick fool, or worse, an over protective mother. Cat cringes as she turns and sees the bullpen has been watching the entire scene with thinly veiled interest. Cat scoffs, these people are meant to be journalists at the top of their field, yet they have the subtlety of charging rhinos.

When the elevator dings across the floor to herald its doors closing and departing Cat waits three full breaths before she bellows, “Shows over! Get back to work or the next person whose head I see craning towards my office rather than being buried in their work will be made an example of. Chop Chop!”

The bullpen explodes into action, people scurrying with their heads down and panicked typing echoing over the floor.

Cat glares across the floor, looking for just one idiot to rise their head and make eye contact. After five solid minutes Cat gives up. No-one is stupid enough to risk eye contact and her reputation as the boss to be feared and respected seems to be intact despite her uncharacteristic behaviour with Kara.

Cat refocuses on her laptop, but instead of sending for a runner to take her piece down to Snapper, or getting on with the mountain of work she has, she finds her fingers flying across the keyboard and pulling up an old archived issue of the Tribune.

The special issue from five years ago was published in response to a spike in domestic violence cases in the city. Catco had consulted numerous experts, charities and the police to create an informative and awareness raising feature which included warning signs for family and friends and suggestions of how to help, or who to contact to seek help escaping domestic abuse. Cat’s trained eyes run quickly over the articles and pick out the key points that she remembered vaguely at the back of her mind.

Lesbian domestic violence had a higher incidence despite their smaller population, with 45% of the city’s surveyed lesbians reporting having experienced domestic abuse at some point, compared to 25% of women in heterosexual relationships.

The line which makes Cat’s blood run cold is a quote from one of the women’s aid volunteers named Samantha who runs a local outreach shelter for battered women: “I have heard it all. The bruises and broken bones are never the abuser’s fault to these women. They always blame themselves, clumsiness or they deserved it. If stairs, doors, and cupboards were as dangerous as these women make them out to be, we would have to just get rid of them all, country wide bans. It has to be the most common excuse, they fell downstairs or clipped themselves with a door somehow.”

Cat feels fear and dread race through her blood. It can’t be, can it? Yet, Cat is certain that Kara was lying to her when she said she fell down the stairs. She knows it in her bones. Kara is a terrible liar and faced with Cat Grant’s journalistic instincts, she had not a hope of selling that lie.

What else could it be? Could Kara have a sport or hobby she is embarrassed about? Maybe kickboxing? It would explain her physique and her injury, but why not just say so? Or was Kara mugged and she is too embarrassed or afraid to talk about it?

There could be a hundred reasons and explanations, yet Cat cannot shake the creeping notion that Alex is to blame. Is that her suppressed jealousy talking though? Is she creating a false narrative to justify her hatred of Alex and her envy? No never, Cat has safely moved Kara into the box of protégé and friend. It is just genuine concern.

All Cat can do is keep a closer eye on Kara and hope she is wrong. If she is not, God help Alex.

* * *

It is Thursday of the same week that Cat walks casually towards her assistants’ desk under the guise of dropping off a stack of signed documents.

Kara is back to her usual sunny self. That is a lie, she seems even more effervescent since her return. She has been smiling nonstop and showing no signs of pain or discomfort. Her ribs must not have been as bad as Cat first feared. Cat has been watching her young assistant like a hawk for any sign of supressed pain or stiffness. Yet there seems to be none, and without concocting some ludicrous plan to strip Kara of all her layers of cardigans and scarves which cover every inch of flesh, Cat has no means of discovering if there are any other signs of abuse such as bruising on Kara.

The idea of having Kara accompany her to a high-class meeting and forcing her to change into a more fashionable and revealing outfit in order to fit in and not show her up passes through her mind. Cat discards the idea as it is too out of character for Cat to bring Kara into one of those meetings and having the poor girl strip to change into some Dior would embarrass Kara. Not to mention likely fuel far too many fantasies for Cat’s liking. That is not something she can allow. Cat has already allowed Kara to get too close to her, breach too many walls. She must maintain some objectivity.

As Cat is dropping the files, her eyes scan Kara’s desk and something glossy beneath her day planner catches Cat’s eye. With a subtle flick of her eyes to ensure no one is watching her, Cat shifts the day planner to reveal a glossy magazine with a smiling bride.

_National Bride._

The state’s premiere wedding monthly magazine. It is the Bible for any future bride.

Cat’s breath catches.

In sudden panic she shifts the planner back and retreats to her office.

Cat stares at her computer screen in a daze as her mind tries to deal with this new information.

Kara is reading _National Bride._

She is reading it with a modicum of discretion

Is Kara getting married? Cat’s breath stalls in her lungs and a sharp ache pierces her chest.

Cat shakes her head, she has no right to feel loss. She is being foolish. A stupid deluded old woman.

Cat casts her mind back to this morning and try as she might, she cannot remember seeing a ring on Kara’s finger.

That is something Cat would have noticed.

A snippet of a conversation from one of Kara’s rambles about her personal life in the early days of her employment bubbles up in Cat’s memory.

Kara doesn’t wear any jewellery. Only a pendant her birth mother gave her. Her family was unconventional about jewellery, so much so that her parents wore bracelets rather than rings when they married.

Cat’s eyes roll back as she concentrates and then she sags in mild relief as she realizes Kara wasn’t wearing a bracelet either.

Is that enough proof though? Kara has never been conventional. Would she even wear a ring or any sign of marriage? Perhaps Alex has proposed, and they just haven’t gone shopping yet for the ring?

Sourness roils in Cat’s stomach as two new thoughts occur to her.

Firstly, Kara has been bouncing, excited and ecstatically happy since her return to work. Her constant smile could be explained by an unexpected proposal.

Secondly, the article on domestic abuse had discussed abusers using grand gestures as a means to ameliorate their actions and seek forgiveness after they had harmed their partners.

Could Alex have bruised Kara’s ribs on Saturday and proposed on Wednesday? The idea seems absurd…but plausible.

Cat shakes her head. No, everything is circumstantial. She is jumping to conclusions. She is assuming. She has no proof.

Cat stews in her anger and worry for the rest of the day. If she is particularly short and mean with Kara, making an unusually large number of snide comments, Kara seems unaffected as she continues to walk on cloud nine.

* * *

It is six weeks later, and Kara’s happiness has returned to more normal levels of golden retriever exuberance.

Kara has made no mention of getting married, no ring or bracelet has appeared, and Cat has not seen any more wedding magazines.

Cat is reclining in her chair, surveying her empire, and sipping her latte as she watches Catco’s commentary on Supergirl’s fight with the male Kryptonian whom she called Non. What a stupid name, but then, it matched his stupid black body suit which made him look like a reject from Cats the musical.

The footage replays on multiple screens as Supergirl and Non grasp hold of each other, grappling furiously as they speed into the stratosphere. They whistle across the sky and shockwaves of punches landing echo over the dispersing clouds. Blasts of heat vision light up the evening sky and then all goes quiet.

The Catcopter had hovered for three minutes in silence and then the streaking comet of two indistinct figures plummeting from high altitude lights up the screen. Supergirl has Non is a Nelson hold and rides him down at Mach 3. Their plummeting descent makes them glow like a falling asteroid, flames licking their forms and the air around them turning to white hot plasma.

They crash into the rocky harbour at the edge of the coast, the boom and crash creating a shockwave that whips up gale force winds and the Catcopter struggles to stay aloft.

Their landing has created a massive crater, at least twenty metres in diameter and four stories deep. Everything is still and silent, even as the ground around the crater glows with heat.

Black SUVs of some shadowy government organisation race onto the scene not ten minutes later. They deluge the crater with white foam that evaporates and cools the ground for a masked retrieval team to safely enter. The leading agent in black is obviously female and fifteen minutes later, using winches, ladders and emergency stretchers, the government agents have retrieved Supergirl and Non.

Non is unconscious, bloody, his whole body a blackening bruise and his catsuit in ruins. He is manacled with glowing green cuffs and surrounded by agents whose guns look like anything but ordinary terrestrial weaponry. The NRA is already asking questions about those weapons and the people’s rights to bare arms extending to them.

Supergirl looks marginally better than Non. She is conscious at least and sitting up, but even from a distance the rainbow of bruising across her face is visible. The lead agent grips her hand and they talk rapidly. Supergirl, through all the pain and exhaustion smiles at this agent.

Cat makes a mental note to have a word with Supergirl the next time she sees her. Anyone with half a mind can tell that Supergirl feels something beyond professional courtesy for this agent. It pleases Cat that her Super protégé has someone who cares for her and whom she seems to care for in return.

Cat pauses the video, sips her latte and nods decisively.

All the networks and papers are following Supergirl and dissecting the fight. Catco needs to stand out. They will interview the first responders and the emergency services who helped ordinary people evacuate when Non began his rampage. Stories of ordinary heroism will make a nice juxtaposition to Supergirl’s grand display.

Cat smiles to herself. A single moment of self-indulgent satisfaction.

Cat rises and prowls to her office door, “Keira, get Snapper Carr and Jason Maguire from the Catco newsroom in my office in twenty minutes. I want to change the direction of our coverage to a human heroism to juxtapose Supergirl’s gallantry.”

Kara, who has been oddly quiet since her arrival fifteen minutes ago and who walked three steps behind Cat as she read her schedule from the elevator to the office, jumps in her seat. Kara’s head whips up and she offers Cat a tired smile, “Of course Miss Grant!”

Cat is just about to turn back into her office when the light shifting across Kara’s face as she bows her head catches her eye.

Cat pauses and her eyes narrow like a raptor on Kara’s face. There, below her right eye is a shadow…or something.

Cat feel a hollowness spread through her stomach, “Belay that Kara. Join me on my balcony. There is something I wish to discuss first.”

Kara looks up in confusion and no small amount of apprehension. As Cat turns and walks towards her balcony, she hears Kara’s steps slowly follow her.

Cat glides through her office and out to her balcony.

She surveys the city below her like the Queen she is.

Kara’s feet shuffle behind her nervously. Cat knows she can’t show her anger. That would be counter productive if this is what she thinks.

She turns slowly and in the full brightness of natural sunlight Cat’s eyes can see clearly now the dark ring beneath Kara’s right eye.

Oh, she has done an expert job of covering it. Makeup artist levels of precision and colour matching, but Cat has been in the fashion and celebrity industry for years. She has seen every trick in the book to hide blemishes, track marks, bruises and signs of sickness.

Idly, Cat wonders who helped Kara do the makeup. Like jewellery, Kara never wears makeup, and even on the night of the gala she only needed the smallest amount of blush and eyeshadow to turn her beauty into something divine.

“W-what do you need to discuss Miss Grant?” Kara asks hesitantly.

Cat steps closer to Kara. Close enough that they share breath. Cat can see Kara’s pupils blow wide in what she assumes is fear. A light tremble racks her form and Cat hates herself for making the girl more afraid. Kara shudders in a breath.

Cat raises her hand and ghosts it under Kara’s black eye, “Who hit you?” Cat asks. Her voice is barely above a whisper and she knows her pain and sorrow at Kara’s injury is on full display in her voice.

Kara’s breath catches and she cringes back. Her hand makes an aborted rise to cover her eye, and even as she curls defensively in on herself she stutters her excuse. Her tone filled with false surprise.

“H-hit me Miss Grant? N-No. No one, Miss Grant. Never, Never. I don’t, no-one would…I mean, I clipped it with a cupboard in the kitchen. I left the overhead cupboard door open and ducked into the fridge. When I stood up: bop! I caught myself on the corner of the door. I was clumsy, carless. It was my fault.”

Kara is in full blown ramble now, every word tasting like a lie to Cat.

Cat forces herself not to glare and instead catches Kara’s chin with one hand and runs her other across the hidden bruise.

“You are a terrible liar Kara. Who hit you? Was it a stranger, a friend…a partner?” Cat asks. She can’t bring herself to say Alex’s name and is afraid of how Kara will respond if she directly accuses her.

“No!” Kara replies too quickly and too vehemently.

Kara steps back, but just as Cat is about to pursue the matter further two new voices make themselves known.

Kara visibly stiffens in fear and whispers “Oh no.”

Winn’s voice is now discernible and is obviously in Cat’s office, “…you can’t go in there. She is talking with Cat! Christ Alex are you trying to get us both fired!”

Alex’s voice is strident and angry, “Shut up Winn. I told Kara she had to stay at home but of course she defies me and runs off to run around like a skivvy for Cat freaking Grant. She shouldn’t be out; she could have a concussion!”

Cat stiffens at the aggressive tone, Alex’s insinuation that Kara is here for her when she may well have a concussion. Just how hard did she hit Kara?

A dark, furious anger bubbles withing Cat.

Alex strides onto the balcony and she spots Kara. A terrible, and ferocious light shines in her eyes!

“Kara! What did I tell you! You are meant to be at home!”

Kara is a mess of nerves and fear, “Uh, I, I felt fine, I wanted to get out of the apartment….”

“Well you’re coming home with me!” Alex states as she grabs Kara’s arm.

Cat slides forward like a shield between the two women and gives Alex a poisonous look.

“Kara is free to go where she wants, when she wants. If Kara wants to leave, that is her choice and if not, I can have security escort you out!”

Alex glares right back and her grip on Kara’s bicep tightens as she explains through grit teeth, “Kara is coming home. She has a possible concussion from walking into a lamppost yesterday while texting.”

Kara winces at Alex’s anachronistic excuse.

Cat sucks in a breath and looks between Kara and Alex. “You need to get your story straight. Was it a cupboard or a lamppost that gave you that black eye Kara?” Cat hisses the words.

Kara flinches and Alex’s eyes blow wide as she realises she is caught in a lie. Alex glares at Kara who ducks her head repentantly.

“It doesn’t matter. Kara is coming with me,” Alex states and tugs on Kara’s arm.

Cat grabs hold of Kara in a defensive grip, refusing to let her go.

“No, she isn’t. Not until I get some answers!” Cat growls threateningly.

As Alex tugs on Kara, her cardigan slips and black bruises in the shape of a hand print are revealed on her arm. All three women freeze and their eyes zero in on the newly revealed marks.

Kara immediately begins to stammer, “Uh, we watched a horror film. I was frightened and gripped myself too hard!”

Both Alex and Cat throw Kara disbelieving looks and Cat steps up and into Alex’s space.

“Something is going on here and I will have the truth, even if I have to call your superiors in the FBI Alex…”

Cat leaves the name hanging as she waits for her last name. Alex smiles cruelly and with triumph as though she has already won, “Danvers. Agent Alex Danvers. Feel free to call my superior. His name is Director John Jones. Now Kara, we are going. Catco insurance won’t cover you working with a possible concussion so grab your stuff and let’s go.”

Kara looks between the two women desperately before she slumps and slips passed them, deciding that discretion is the better part of valour. “I’ll just get my things,” she sighs in defeat.

Cat is reeling. Danvers, she is Alex Danvers! Alex isn’t just Kara’s girlfriend or long term partner, she is her wife. They are already married!

Cat glances down and only now sees the diamond ring on Alex’s finger.

It feels like she has been stabbed. Any hidden dreams and hopes Cat has harboured of standing a chance, of one day being able to forge a relationship with Kara when she is inevitably promoted, or moves jobs, evaporates.

Yet, Cat still has to protect her. She still has to try.

Cat pulls her shock and sadness deep down into the hidden depths of her soul where her grief at the loss of her father, Adam and the pain of always disappointing her mother resides.

She squares her shoulders and skewers Alex Danvers with the darkest look she can dredge up.

It isn’t hard.

Cat feels like she wants to rake her nails across Alex’s face, but Cat knows is would be futile. Kara is in denial; she is making excuses for this sorry excuse of a wife. Until Kara wants help, wants out of this poisonous relationship, Cat cannot force her. Not without risking driving Kara deeper into Alex’s clutches.

Cat grabs Alex’s arm and steps up close to the woman so she can look into her brown eyes and so that Alex Danvers can see just how serious Cat Grant is as she whispers in her ear.

“I may not know the details, but I know you are involved in Kara being hurt. You may feel your badge protects you, but I am Cat Grant. I have the President on speed dial, I drink cocktails with Congressmen on the FBI oversight committee, I have more dirt and am owed more favours from officials high and low in this city than you can imagine. I have felled Governors and toppled Dictators. Beware my wrath Agent Danvers, because if Kara ever presents to work with so much as a papercut in the future, or if she ever tells me the truth of what is going on, you can rest assured I will bring the full force of Catco and my personal resources to see you, and anyone else who harms her to justice.”

This said, Cat pushes Alex back. The leather clad woman’s eyes are huge, but instead of filled with fear they brim with astonishment.

Alex is silent for a moment before her jaw tenses and she releases an angry laugh, “For the love of God. You can’t be serious? _You_ are going to warn _me_ off! You! The woman whose abuse of her assistants is legendry. The woman who undermines Kara at every turn and can’t even get her damn name right?!”

Cat feel her words like a whip, but she refuses to flinch or back down.

Alex Danvers throws her hands in the air and turns to stride back through her office.

Cat follows more sedately, and she watches through her glass walls as Alex Danvers links arms with Kara and roughly marches her towards the elevator without any further comment.

Cat slides into her seat behind her desk and takes slow breathes as she tries to prevent tears from falling.

Cat drops her head into her hands. The failure to protect Kara eats at her. The guilt too. What Alex Danvers said was true. Cat is just as much an abuser too, but she has never been a kind boss, or a patient one. Kara however, has often gotten the sharpest and cruellest sides of her because she has never felt the need to hide the worst parts of herself from Kara. Kara, who accepts Cat and still calls her brilliant and looks at her in awe. Cat uses the silly name ‘Keira’ to maintain the emotional distance she needs to prevent her midlife crisis, or delusional heart from making the leap from repressed crush to hopelessly in love with her damn assistant. Her assistant who is a ray of sunshine. A woman who is half Cat’s age, just beginning her career and her life, unburdened by children and in no need of a cruel old woman to be perving on her or lusting after her in some fantasy of office romance. Cat had been cruel to ensure distance and keep her professional distance.

But…but, had Cat’s verbal and emotional abuse paved the way for Alex? Had Cat broken something in Kara that made her accept being treated as less than she is? Had Cat made Kara, even in some small way, more vulnerable to Alex and her violence?

Cat races to her cabinet and gulps a glass of scotch to settle her stomach and quench the angry, nervous shake she feels in her hands.

Cat breathes slowly. She needs a plan.

She needs to create an environment where Kara might feel safe enough to confide in her. To be honest with her. She needs to drop some of the distance she has been keeping, forge some form of friendship so she can subtly reassure Kara that she has support, that she deserves better.

Cat’s traitorous mind whispers that she is a better choice.

Cat gulps another mouthful of Scotch.

No, that is selfishness talking. Cat does not want to steal Kara away for herself. She just wants her to be safe. To be happy. That is all she wants. That is all she can hope for.

Directly addressing the problem is usually Cat’s modus operandi but in a situation like this if she is too blunt, if she asks Kara outright or offers her an escape, Kara may turn against her. She might quit Catco and go where Cat cannot watch over her. In a tale as old as time, the rescuer may drive the victim further into the abuser’s clutches. Cat has to deal with this delicately, cautiously and with patience.

Patience.

Cat hates patience. Kara was still making excuses and defending Alex. There is no hope of lancing this issue outright. And now that Alex and Kara are married, Cat has to be even more cautious. It is natural for someone to cling to their wife, especially if they are newly married.

Cat sinks another glass and returns to her desk. She lifts her phone and books an appointment with her therapist. She needs to discuss this matter with an expert, she needs a game plan.

* * *

In the black SUV speeding away from Catco, Alex Danvers grips the steering wheel angrily.

Kara, responding to the angry cloud her sister seems to be under, has remained silent. The elevator ride down, the walk to the SUV and the first five minutes of the drive have been silent.

Kara can’t take it anymore, “I’m sorry Alex. I got up this morning and I felt fine. The sunlamps did a great job and although my powers aren’t back, I felt well enough to do my job. Vasquez helped me do my makeup so you can hardly see the black eye…I just didn’t want to let Miss Grant down!”

Alex breathes slowly through her nose, “Kara, I am pissed that you left the DEO without telling anyone but Vasquez. Believe me, she and I will be having a chat.”

Alex says the word ‘chat’ like it is a euphemism for some draconian torture. Kara wants to jump to Vasquez’s defence but one glare from Alex has her mouth snapping shut.

“Non beat seven kinds of hell out of you Kara. The doctor thought you had a concussion last night, that’s why I stayed up all night waking you up every hour and checking your pupil response. Then, then you wander off the moment I turn my back! Not only that, but you do it while still powerless, while numerous other Fort Rozz Kryptonians are on the loose. Kryptonians who are now even more dangerous than ever because they are leaderless since Astra switched sides and Non is now in our custody!”

Kara has been sinking lower and lower in her seat with each reprimand.

“But Kara, that all pales into insignificance with the clusterfuck you have walked us right into now at Catco!”

Kara looks completely confused and mystified, “What? What cluster _duck_? What’s going on? Is it Miss Grant? Is she angry with me? She knows I was lying doesn’t she! Do you think she knows I am Supergirl?”

Alex groans at her sister’s panic, “Kara you are so oblivious it is painful!”

“Hey!” Kara cries.

“Have you told Miss Grant I’m your sister?” Alex asks tiredly.

Kara stammers, “Of course she knows you’re my sister. I talk about you all the time. You bring me lunch and we went to the Gala together. I am sure that I mentioned…of course I told her…oh! Maybe…actually, huh, it has never actually come up. I just assumed…everyone knows you’re my sister!”

Alex bangs her head off the steering wheel.

“Uh Kara! This is the 2012 Halloween party all over again!”

Kara leans back in her seat in confusion, “The party where those two gross guys thought we were dating! What has that to do with Catco!”

Alex looks at Kara pityingly, “Kara, you didn’t tell Miss Grant I am your sister. You then brought me to the Gala night which I dragged you away from, we eat together regularly and I have had to come and drag you home from Cat after you stayed working late too often. What do you think she thinks we are?”

Kara blushes guiltily, “Really good friends?” She asks innocently.

Alex groans, “Kara! She saw my wedding ring! She thinks we are at least engaged, and what’s worse is that the Queen of All Media caught us in a lie about your black eye and then spotted your bruises from Non on your arm. Not only am I your wife, but she thinks I am your abusive, violent wife!”

Kara gasps, “No!”

“Yes!” Alex groans.

“Oh, gosh, I will have to tell her that you are my sister and that you never hit me. Well, except when I steal your food, or when we are sparring!”

Alex can already see that bumbling conversation in her head and a hundred possible ways that this will get even worse.

Alex grips the wheel harder, “And how are you going to explain your bruises? If I’m not the wife beater then I am the abusive sister, or Cat will assume someone else hits you! Who are you going to blame that on? Non? You would have to tell her you are Supergirl, which is not an option.”

Silence reins for a few precious moments before Kara squeaks, “Maybe I could tell her…”

“No Kara! No telling Cat freaking Grant that you are Supergirl!” Alex cries desperately.

Kara flops sadly in her seat.

Alex feels guilty for snapping at her sister, “Look, we will get you back to the DEO and under the sun lamps. Once your powers are back and you are back at work, I will turn up for lunch one day and I will bring (Astra or Maggie or Kelly, reader’s choice). We will make it obvious we are a couple and set that mistake right at least. Hopefully without making Cat even more of an enemy by embarrassing her by calling her on her misassumption.”

Kara looks marginally hopeful, “That could work. What about the bruises?”

Alex throws her hands up, “I don’t know Kara! Cross our fingers and hope she forgets about them. If you are healed by tomorrow, we could play it off as you bruising and healing easily and she might let it go. Maybe, if we have a miracle! I know Kate and Bruce would play off injuries as extreme sports injuries or as sexcapades gone wrong…but I don’t think either of those lies would work for you.”

Kara flushes and grumbles under her breath.

Alex grits her teeth and bemoans the headache she can already feel coming on at the thought of all the paperwork this shitshow has created. J’onn will not be amused.

The most pressing thought on Alex’s overprotective mind however is the image of Cat Grant ferociously threatening Alex to protect Kara. The woman’s face had been set like a classic marble statue and her eyes had glowed with a righteous passion that makes Alex nervous.

Alex knows she is shit at reading interpersonal cues and emotions, but she could have sworn she saw something terribly familiar in Cat Grant’s anger. A fear, a protective zeal over Kara that Alex has lived with all her life. Something a lot like love.

Alex shifts nervously at the thought. No, she can’t assume.

It couldn’t have been love.

* * *

**The End.**

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed this work. Please kudos and comment! If you know the name of the work my other half was after too then that would be appreciated also!


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